


You Pay The Price

by wednesday



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, temporary mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday
Summary: Jonathan once again meets McCullum in a less than ideal situation and continues to have no regrets about it.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 20
Kudos: 166
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2020





	You Pay The Price

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Masu_Trout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/gifts).



It felt like the right thing to do – walking away from McCullum. Jonathan wouldn’t have admitted to it, but he did it half out of spite. He had spent most of his life proving people that believed he couldn’t accomplish one thing or another wrong. McCullum expecting death at his hands and fangs was just another challenge to that side of him, the side that was only barely polite enough to refrain from saying ‘I told you so’ every time he was right. 

He wasn’t proud of that part of himself, but in the end it didn’t matter why. What mattered was he walked away and didn’t rise to the taunts, didn’t let his pain and frustrations take hold in that moment. For once since his return didn’t do anything regrettable. 

With everything that happened afterwards, with McCullum treating him as a man and not a monster the next time they met, it was easy to forget how thin of an ice their peace was balancing on. 

He found McCullum in the sewers by accident, on his way from Old Bridget’s. McCullum was standing over the remains of a very recently deceased Ekon, a rather obvious explanation for his presence in the tunnels. An uncomfortable reminder as well, though Jonathan did believe they were past all that. 

Jonathan considered if he should leave before McCullum noticed him, as a courtesy to Bridget. He knew McCullum well enough to know he’d most certainly take note and investigate the reason Jonathan was wandering the sewers. 

He lingered in indecision too long, or perhaps just long enough. Moments before leaving the way he’d come to search for a different exit he noticed a movement in one of the tunnels on the far side of the room. A second Ekon preparing to ambush McCullum. Jonathan was just far enough that he wouldn’t be fast enough to intervene, not with McCullum right between him and the Ekon. 

“McCullum, move aside,” Jonathan called out. The vagueness of the command occurred to him, but really, as long as McCullum got out of his way– 

McCullum startled with a curse and looked at Jonathan with a deep frown. “What are you doing here, Reid?” He did not, however, move out of the way. 

Jonathan could see the Ekon take advantage of the distraction, draw shadows around himself and jump through them towards McCullum’s exposed back– 

“ ** _Move_** ,” he ordered and felt his mind push, and for a second McCullum froze in place, his eyes clouded, and then he moved aside, right in the direction Jonathan had envisioned. He got out of the way just as the Ekon was materializing, not fast enough to avoid him completely, but it did save him from losing his head. Jonathan smelled fresh blood, but not enough of it for a life threatening wound. After that he had little time to pay attention to McCullum. 

The Ekon was worryingly strong and Jonathan spent about as much time dodging bloodspears as he did trying to find an opening for his own attack. Some time into the fight McCullum recovered enough to start helping. Every one of his shots hit the Ekon, giving Jonathan the upper hand needed to finish off their opponent. 

As he stood over the dead Ekon, a mirror to how he’d first found McCullum, he felt the very human urge to draw a deep breath before turning around. At least none of McCullum’s bullets had landed in him. That had to be a good sign. 

When he did turn around, he was forced to reconsider that assessment. 

McCullum was pointing his gun straight at his heart, his face deathly pale and terrified in a way he hadn’t been even when he expected his imminent death. Jonathan raised his hands as a sign of peace and spoke with his calmest voice. 

“I mean you no harm, McCullum, you know this very well.” For every measured step he took towards McCullum, McCullum took a shaky step back. 

“Don’t–” McCullum shook his head as if to clear it and Jonathan felt some sliver of connection slip away. A strange sense of touching something with his mind that he hadn’t even known was there until that very moment when it no longer was. “What did you do to me, leech?” 

“Mesmerize you.” For a moment he wondered if the force he’d used in that moment of desperation might have injured McCullum somehow. “Now, let me look at your shoulder.” He could tell McCullum was still bleeding sluggishly and the too rapid beating of his heart was surely not helping. 

“I’m not letting you put your hands anywhere near me,” McCullum spat. “Stop! Just don’t come closer!” He looked spooked enough that Jonathan did stop his advance. 

“Would you have preferred I did nothing and watch you be beheaded?” It wasn’t a fair thing to ask, Jonathan knew. He was however annoyed and the slightest bit hurt and equally surprised with himself over it. Only now did he realize with a pang of regret that he’d wanted McCullum of all people to trust him. It seemed silly now to have expected such a thing. ‘Did not kill me when he had the chance’ was surely not the highest praise, nor any reason to trust him. 

In any case, he didn’t regret what he’d done here tonight, just as he hadn’t regretted sparing McCullum before. 

McCullum looked absolutely unwilling to lower his gun, even though his hand was faintly trembling. He shook his head again and started backing away again, towards one of the tunnels. 

“Don’t follow me.” 

Jonathan didn’t, and couldn’t suppress the doubt that maybe he should have. 

– 

Jonathan spent the following night too preoccupied with a sudden influx of patients to worry about much else. The evening after that, however, was peaceful at Pembroke, and it gave him enough time to start worrying about their encounter. What consequence was the most likely to come of it? A mob of angry hunters seemed like an overreaction to him, but he could imagine McCullum resorting to such a thing if he thought Jonathan enough of a threat. 

McCullum had seemed to feel extremely threatened that night. 

Jonathan did wish to spare his colleagues another unfortunate encounter with Priwen. There wasn’t much he could do about it, though, so he spent the early evening mixing some remedies for the hospital’s constantly diminishing stores. 

He was putting away the bottles and boxes of ingredients when the door to his office opened and McCullum walked in. His determined stride faltered the moment he laid eyes on Jonathan. 

“McCullum, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He had a guess or two, in all honesty, but he had some measure of hope they could resolve the issue without violence this time. 

McCullum kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off Jonathan, and only spoke after. “Leech,” he said and paused, swallowed almost nervously, drew a deep breath like he was readying himself for something. “Do it again.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Do it again. I need– I have to be able to resist your leech tricks.” 

Jonathan stared at him for a silent minute and tried to understand what the best course of action was here. It felt like a test, but he had no idea what the desired outcome was. Was he supposed to refuse? 

McCullum looked increasingly uneasy in the silence. He dragged his fingers through his hair and looked around the office, anywhere but at Jonathan. A scent of blood was hanging about him, faint enough that it was probably just a few stray drops, but it was _McCullum’s_ blood, sweet, inviting and familiar, though Jonathan had only tasted it once before. It made Jonathan more irritable than usual, and he could feel his fangs lengthen in his mouth. He had yet to learn a measure of control over this reaction, though fortunately it very rarely happened when treating patients. In the absence of the ability to control it, he had just learned how to hide his inhumanly sharp teeth. 

“That seems unwise,” he finally said, and took the box of finished medicines to his desk, which conveniently put some more distance between them, as little of it as there was to be had. 

The feeling he’d noticed when McCullum had shaken off the hold on his mind had been brief and confusing, but Jonathan was sure it wouldn’t do any of them any good to recreate it. Like the taste of blood, he did not want to put himself into the path of more temptation than absolutely necessary. He was still, months after his change, unused to it and not confident in his own ability to resist. 

After a moment of hesitation McCullum followed him and hovered a few steps away. 

“Unwise?” he said, the disbelief in his voice very obvious, “I don’t care what you think is wise or not, I just need you to do it again!” He sounded angry, but there was still fear in his face alongside the defiance. And of course Jonathan could hear his heart, beating as fast as if they were locked in a fight from the moment McCullum stepped into his office. 

Jonathan sighed. 

“Very well.” The moment he agreed he knew he probably shouldn’t have, but he wanted to be done with the whole thing. He tried to push with his mind consciously the same way he knew he most likely did every so often when trying to get the truth from his patients. “ _Hand me that vial of sodium hypochlorite solution_ , would you?” 

McCullum looked at him with visible confusion, and Jonathan could feel his command slide harmlessly off the surface of his mind. 

“Again.” 

“McCullum, I don’t th–” 

“I said again!” McCullum interrupted him. He looked upset enough that Jonathan felt it would be useless to attempt to talk some sense into him. 

“ _Drink some water_ ,” he ordered and pointed at the bottle of water he kept on the desk for Lisa. 

Just as before, McCullum was unaffected. Jonathan wondered how many such tasks he would have to come up with before McCullum would be satisfied. Not that being in his presence was a hardship, but there were quite a few things Jonathan was more inclined to do than stand here and attempt to give McCullum another reason to fear him. 

“Are you even trying, leech?” McCullum both looked and sounded agitated by Jonathan’s attempts to mesmerize failing. “Pretending at all this civility–” he gestured at the room around them, “won’t make you any less of a beast. I already know what kind of monster you are. Act like it!” 

Jonathan might have taken offense, but he knew this hunter must have trusted him at least a little to come here knowing after their encounter in the sewers how likely it was that Jonathan _could_ mesmerize him. Still McCullum’s insistence on painting him the monster only increased the rising annoyance he felt. It was not made better at all by the blood he could smell ever so clearly now that McCullum had shed some of his fear in favor of anger and stepped closer. 

“If you insist,” he half growled, no longer putting any effort into hiding his fangs. 

Instantly fear reappeared on McCullum’s face, and his hand reached for the stake fastened to his thigh in what Jonathan was sure was instinct. 

“ ** _Stop_**.” This time the order didn’t slide off McCullum’s mind like water off glass. He froze, expression unchanging and eyes clouded. The only way Jonathan knew of his panic was the sudden increase in his heartbeat. After a moment he realized he could also _feel_ McCullum’s fear now, like an echo of feeling in his own mind. 

Jonathan considered him carefully. He’d made an effort to never linger too much on any fantasy of having McCullum in such a position, of having such power over him or anyone. Yet here they were, by McCullum’s own request, for as much as his fear fueled demands counted. In that strange part of his mind that now echoed with feelings not his own Jonathan could now feel McCullum struggling to get free, but he could tell he had some time before he would succeed. He wouldn’t be nearly fast enough, if Jonathan were in truth the monster he expected. 

The persistent scent of blood, no matter how inviting, wasn’t enough to turn him into that monster, just as it hadn’t been before and, Jonathan hoped, would never be in the future. He could perhaps order McCullum to leave, but he had a strong suspicion that would not be the end of it. Still, McCullum smelled of blood and… 

“ _Undress_ ,” Jonathan commanded, and he barely had to press at McCullum’s will to make him comply. If anything, it felt like McCullum’s attempts to resist lessened. His hands moved slowly to the fastenings of his coat. The echoes in Jonathan’s mind, however, turned into a dizzying swirl of too many emotions for Jonathan to make sense of. 

“ _Take your shirt off_ ,” he said when McCullum’s coat fell on the floor. Now he could feel some resistance, enough that he pressed again, another command to layer over the one that was about to fail. “ ** _Now_**.” 

McCullum’s face turned pale, the only visible sign of his distress at being under a vampire’s thrall. He did as he was told, however, only his mind protesting while his hands unbuttoned and removed the shirt. It fell to the ground just as his coat. There was a makeshift bandage around his shoulder, most likely applied by McCullum himself – it looked crooked and loose, as if he’d tied it one-handed. The red spots on it betrayed easily the source of the lingering scent of blood. 

The increasing echoes of panic Jonathan could feel had some kind of tinge to it he did not recognize. He was curious, but rather sure he wouldn’t be in a position to become familiar enough with McCullum’s mind to learn much more. Already he could feel his control slipping, faster than before. 

“ ** _Sit down_** ,” he commanded, and pressed at McCullum’s mind until he took an unsteady step back and took a seat on Jonathan’s bed. 

He did his best to keep his mind from wandering. This power was certainly not a way he had ever imagined having someone in his bed, nor did the situation lend itself to such thoughts, not when he could feel McCullum struggle at being moved by someone else’s will. 

By the way Jonathan had trouble keeping his hold on McCullum now he didn’t have much time left, so he didn’t waste any; he cut the old bandage and unwound it. There were two claw marks on McCullum’s shoulder, several inches long, but not deep enough to require stitches. The bandage alone would have been enough, most likely, if it had been tied properly. 

“ ** _Stay still_**.” Jonathan cleaned the wounds as fast and efficiently as he could, certain that after McCullum overcame his hold, he wouldn’t be able to enforce it again. Already his hold with this last command felt weaker, like the next one wouldn’t be able to get through the shields around McCullum’s mind. It was rather remarkable how fast his mind had learned to resist Jonathan’s power. 

He didn’t bother trying again; he wrapped a clean bandage around McCullum’s shoulder while McCullum slowly came to and shook off Jonathan’s control over him. 

“I don’t think it will work again,” Jonathan said and attempted to sound reassuring, as he finished treating McCullum’s shoulder. He collected McCullum’s clothes from the floor, deposited them on the bed and stepped back, just in case McCullum still felt like staking him. “You can get dressed.” 

Only then, when he was leaning back against the desk and affecting a calm he didn’t quite feel, did McCullum throw off the last traces of Jonathan’s will. Just as he had two nights ago, Jonathan felt a strange sense of loss. 

An angry “ _Reid_ ,” was the first thing McCullum said. He didn’t follow up with anything, though Jonathan was sure it wasn’t for a lack of things to say. 

“You did ask,” Jonathan said with a shrug. 

McCullum grimaced, but said nothing. Instead he put on his shirt and started buttoning it. His movements were sure now, no longer eerily stilted. 

Jonathan watched him and McCullum looked back, expression strangely unreadable. He didn’t seem in any hurry. There was something unexpectedly distracting about McCullum on his bed, putting clothes on. It seemed to him more intimate than undressing, more so because McCullum had undressed at his command. Jonathan wasn’t commanding him any more, and McCullum was still in his bed. It was… It was the regular, very familiar temptation taking hold of Jonathan now, one he had very much practice resisting. 

It was a thought he might revisit later, when he was alone; for now he tried to focus elsewhere. 

“Do get your wounds looked at sooner next time. It’s only luck it didn’t get infected.” 

“Mhm, next time,” McCullum said absently, still watching Jonathan. He put his coat on and stood up. He seemed no longer afraid of Jonathan, or if he was, he was hiding it much better than before. Jonathan might have wanted to offer some manner of a politely worded ‘I told you so,’ as he often did, but he _had_ played the monster this evening, and he had no wish to hear McCullum call him such again. 

McCullum stood there, unmoving and silent for another minute, and watched Jonathan with an inquisitiveness that made him slightly uneasy. He had wanted McCullum to understand him, yes, but he only realized now there were things he’d much prefer to keep hidden. 

“Reid,” McCullum said, inclined his head and without another word left Jonathan’s office. 

Something felt changed between them, and Jonathan wasn’t sure what or how exactly. Just as before, he did not regret anything he’d done tonight. The image of McCullum on his bed, half dressed was burned into his mind, however. He didn’t regret that at all, but he had an ominously vague suspicion he might have failed to hide some of his own feelings while trying to decipher McCullum’s. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Gammarad for betaing!


End file.
